


Birthright

by fawatson



Category: Black Jewels - Anne Bishop
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-29
Updated: 2016-09-29
Packaged: 2018-08-18 13:21:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8163452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fawatson/pseuds/fawatson
Summary: Karla adopts Della.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [calenlily](https://archiveofourown.org/users/calenlily/gifts).



> **Request**  
>  Character: Karla  
> General: No darkfic/unhappy endings/character death. Pretty much nothing makes me happier than awesome women being awesome. I like: Family interactions. Good friends being there for each other. Strong females. Focus on female characters.  
> Prompt: Asexual Karla. I know a lot of people think of Karla as lesbian, and that's cool, but (unless I seriously missed something somewhere) all that's actually stated in canon is that she isn't interested in men, and I always read her as ace. Whether you want to show her working to figure out and accept that identity as an adolescent, or friendship fic with Jaenelle and/or the rest of the family and/or the coven and the boyos, or just Karla kicking ass and being the BAMF that she is, I'd love to see pretty much anything running with this characterization.
> 
>  **Author’s Note** : On Anne Bishop’s website, in her Q&A with readers, she was asked: “Whatever happened to Della, the girl who was rescued by Kaelas and KaeAskavi?” Her answer: “Karla adopted her.” 
> 
> **Acknowledgements** : Thank you to my sister who beta-read. 
> 
> **Disclaimer:** I do not own these characters and make no profit by them.

She was an odd child. In one respect, Della could be nothing else. She was, after all, the only survivor of a village which had been wiped out by Hobart in his bid to seize Glacia from Karla years before: the odd one out. But her difference had begun before that event: she had befriended an Arcerian kit. That fact alone had led to her survival of the massacre, had led to the Arcerians adopting a human child and raising her as their own. No one would remotely suggest Della’s upraising had been normal. No one except an Arcerian, that is. 

What had been supposed to be a few weeks amongst the big cats had turned into years when no one could be found in the human communities willing to take on the little girl’s full-time care. It seemed her mother had been an ‘outsider’ in her village, and the little girl had, even before being orphaned, been considered odd, so inhabitants of neighbouring villages had been reluctant to take responsibility for her. KaeAskavi, however, clearly had claimed her as kin; and his mother had acceded to her kit’s demand that she remain with the pride. Provided there was human input into her education, that is; the Arcerian’s fully acknowledged the need for that. Equally, Glacia’s human populace had insisted on human oversight, to ensure the child’s safety from the dangerous predators she seemed to have chosen as her own in preference to humankind. 

Monitoring the child’s welfare had fallen to Glacia’s queen. Crippled queen, thought Karla. It was bad enough having to descend gradually from Gray Wind to Green to Rose; but when she stumbled on landing, and found herself limping on her way to the front door, her continuing problems with her legs were brought home in a most unpleasant way. Karla did not like feeling she could not command her body to do what she wanted; it set her temper on edge. Making the journey to the Arcerian homelands to the north always taxed her strength. Yet, it was not a duty she could delegate easily to someone within her Court. The child did not tolerate males. It was a quality Karla could relate to. But, she had also appreciated there was a difference between simply having limited affinity for males and experiencing stark terror if any approached within three feet. 

Logically, then (and Karla did try to be logical, even about situations that left her feeling very snarly), the task should be delegated to a female. However none of the females of Karla’s Court had the level of appreciation for Arcerian customs necessary for the task. She had _tried_ , thinking someone with more of the traditional womanly qualities than she possessed would be more able to oversee the child’s welfare, would provide a warmth and caring Della needed after losing her mother. Alys even held a Green jewel, which should certainly have earned her respect from the Arcerian matriarch. Alys’ hysterics at the sight of young Della helping to disembowel a deer had not, however. 

Karla’s attempts to delegate oversight of the young survivor’s care had lasted a full year, during which her own slow recovery from the poison had prevented her from making the trip to the mountains herself. Then a Tangled Web had forewarned dire problems if she did not play a more active role herself. It had been closely followed by an ultimatum from the Arcerian queen who was fostering the little girl: either Karla came herself or the queen would resolve the problem by disposing of the child. No longer would she tolerate the ineptitude of idiots in the Queen of Glacia’s place. Thereafter Karla had made the trip twice each year: autumn and spring. 

It was winter now, and an additional trip had not been easy to work into her schedule. However, no Territory Queen could afford to ignore a request from the Arcerian Queen, so even though the season always brought her additional aches and pains, and tramping through snow posed an additional hazard given weakened legs, Karla made the effort to come as soon as possible once the message was relayed. 

At least the child could talk now. The first couple of years after the massacre she had remained completely silent, not even using mind speech; and though her comprehension had been seen in her response to her Arcerian foster mother’s commands, and her Arcerian playmate’s directions, Della had remained resolutely mute to all human attempts at communication. At her last trip, though, Della had answered Karla’s questions. She had not volunteered anything. But she had answered. 

Clearly the child had craft; the extent of her strength had not yet been determined. It was hard to test a child who resolutely refused to try. She had been too young to go through any Birthright Ceremony before the massacre. There was no definite or exact age by when all those children who would receive a Birthright jewel would have received theirs. But at 10 years old, Della had clearly stretched the boundaries of when a girl would receive her jewel; the trauma she had experienced undoubtedly accounted for that. Perhaps she would not acquire one. Not all Blood did. There was no real reason to think Della had that potential. Yet from the moment she had first met the child, Karla had felt certain she would. She had learned to rely on her gut instincts. 

Arcerian dens were, undoubtedly comfortable if you weighed eight hundred pounds and were well insulated from the mountain chill by a thick fur coat; but from human perspectives they tended toward the Spartan. This den, however, now had a loose weaving made from goat’s hair covering the entrance. New weaving, inexpert weaving, childish weaving full of knots and tangles, tears and rough patches denoting inexperience, rather than craft. Weaving which told Karla why she had received the urgent summons. Arcerians did not weave. 

“Who has been her first teacher?” She asked the Arcerian Queen, and was pointed toward the Arachnian crouching near the top of one wall.

And her strength? 

But it seemed the young prodigy had still not acquired a jewel, which made her youthful webs all the more of an achievement. And more of a problem, as Karla realised when she saw Della. The girl was rake thin. With no reservoir of power to draw on, she was pulling the energy for her weaves from her own body and depleting her life force more quickly than she could replenish it. 

*It is time for the human kit to leave us.* 

Had Karla expected to return home with another witch she would have brought a Web Coach. Carrying one’s lover while catching the Winds was often seen as a romantic courting gesture amongst the Blood. Karla had never forgotten that wild flight she had taken with Lucivar on her Virgin Night. It had not been something she had ever wanted to try again; being in someone else’s control was not her style. Nor was holding onto someone else, and controlling their journey, an experience she’d yearned for. It demanded not only psychic endurance and skill in craft, but a certain amount of physical strength as well. Karla had had enough trouble managing the tricky Winds around the mountains for just herself on the trip up to the Arcerian settlement. Carrying a lanky young witch – even one who was as underweight for her height as Della was – while riding the currents and eddies on the return journey, was no mean feat. Why had the last Web she’d woven before setting out for the north not foretold this? Karla arrived breathless as dusk fell, feeling distinctly out of sorts. 

After the briefest of introductions, Karla abandoned Della to the tender mercies of her household and retired swiftly to her private apartments to soak in the warm bubbling waters of the whirlpool bath that had been installed to help relax the muscles in her wasted legs (which had a nasty tendency to knot after a full day’s use). She emerged a few hours later much refreshed, temper soothed, but feeling slightly guilty. The girl had come from a peasant village, after all. Her Court was relatively informal but still….

“I’ve added her to the list of children for tomorrow’s Birthright Ceremony. She is long past the time she should have been presented,” informed her Steward. Karla was left with the decided impression he considered all delays were her fault. 

“I’ve organised a training schedule for her, so she learns to recognise human risks and how to defend herself properly,” briefed her Master of the Guard. There was ever so slight an emphasis on the ‘human’, giving recognition to the fact that after a few years with the Arcerians, Della would not be without any defences. Once again, however, there was an implicit message it was Karla’s fault the child had not been offered this training before. 

“I’ve put her in the bedroom between yours and mine,” explained Wilhelmina Benedict. “Since you have adopted her, she should be housed in the family wing, and given how nervous she clearly is around men, I thought she’d feel more comfortable there.” 

Not for the first time, Karla congratulated herself on her inspiration at making Wilhelmina Benedict her Consort. She had been at a loss for how to fill that position after her cousin Morton had been killed. Any man she chose would have felt he was failing his Queen had he not slept with her. He would have been all too likely to leave, possibly not even serving out his full contract before he sought a more fulfilling position for himself. Constant turnover was not good for a Court; it destabilised relationships and made people feel uneasy. However, sleeping with her Consort periodically as one of her duties would not have been the solution. Not only was he there to serve _her_ needs, a Queen was expected to enjoy the attentions of her Consort. Reluctant bedroom duties which left neither person completely satisfied would be hardly likely to leave her Consort feeling fulfilled any more than they would serve Karla’s needs. It had been a quandary, and the Consort post had remained unfilled for some time, a decision she had been able to defend on the basis of her slow recovery from the poisons Ulka had used. 

Until seeing Wilhelmina on one of her infrequent visits to Jaenelle in Dhemlan had given her an idea. The girl’s talents were clearly wasted in that cottage, not to mention living in such isolation was a risk, to Wilhelmina herself, and to Jaenelle. Offering Wilhelmina the Consort’s ring gave her the protection of being part of an established Court, and social duties she was admirably trained for. Once Karla had made it clear she had no expectations of her in the bedroom, Wilhelmina had transformed from the brittle, anxious, and insecure young woman who had arrived in Kaeleer into a quietly confident person who performed her duties with admirable efficiency. The post also allowed her free rein to pursue her love affair with Andrew. She had been hesitant, willing only to sign a year’s contract at the beginning. But Wilhelmina had stayed and, as she blossomed, it became evident she would stay as long as Karla still wanted her. Meanwhile, Karla was relieved of the more _personal_ duties any other Consort would have expected to perform. It made for a safe Court, a happy Court, and a contented Territory. 

“I saw that Della was settled with a good meal, and I’ve looked out a decent gown for her to wear tomorrow,” added Wilhelmina. The slight frown was all she permitted herself as criticism. 

Karla smiled weakly at the three most powerful members of her Court, “Kiss kiss.” There was a decidedly apologetic quality to her reply. She accepted, without comment, the cold platter her housekeeper set out for her in the study; and spent a short time penitently dealing with overdue paperwork she had been avoiding for the past week, before making her way to bed.

The Birthright Ceremony was scheduled for late morning, to be followed by a lavish buffet luncheon. As there had only been two children scheduled to enter the Sanctuary, neither of whom was the offspring of anyone with any status at Court, it was a bit extravagant to open the grounds of the mansion in celebration. But it was something Karla could do for the local populace. Blood who wielded their strength for the good of the land were an asset. This kind of celebration reinforced the Blood’s ties to the territory. Besides, the local Mayor’s son was making an offering today. No one expected the lad to come away with a darker jewel. Look at his parents: a fussy protocol obsessed Rose Warlord father and a vain Tiger-Eye Witch mother. But, honouring them by hosting the party created goodwill. Given the proximity of the local Sanctuary to the mansion, it also made good sense. 

There was an undercurrent of speculation when Della arrived, shepherded by Wilhelmina. Her story circulated through the townsfolk who had come to watch. There would have been considerably more twittering had Jaenelle Angeline not been there, accompanied by Daemon Sadi. He brooded and she charmed, and their total acceptance of Della reduced, if it did not completely silence, gossip. 

In due course the Mayor’s son went in, acquired his jewel (Karla felt a snide sense of satisfaction at its light colour), and the wife duly acknowledged the boy's paternity. The daughter of a local innkeeper went next. She seemed to spend rather a long time in the Sanctuary, her chosen witness the local school teacher, while her anxious parents waited. She emerged with a Purple Dusk jewel to the astonishment of all. Both parents carried lighter jewels. But their joy at the sight of the jewel she’d been given was clearly for her, rather than for themselves. Karla clapped as loudly as everyone else when the ceremony to acknowledge paternity was completed, while the father beamed and hugged his daughter. 

Stiffened by the long wait, Karla struggled to her feet, leaning heavily on her cane, to escort Della to the Priestess; but to her astonishment, it was Wilhelmina the child chose to bear witness. They had only a few seconds to wait before Della emerged from the Sanctuary, fists clenched. Ignoring the Priestess, face solemn, Della walked a swift, straight line to stand before Karla, while Wilhelmina hurried to catch up. 

She stood stiffly to attention in front of Karla, looked her straight in the eyes and spoke loudly so all could hear.

“I, Della of Glacia, acknowledge Lady Wilhelmina Benedict and Queen Karla as my parents. I grant them parental rights from this day forward.” 

The girl unclenched her hands to show a pendant set with a large glowing Fire Opal, which she placed round her neck. 

“Congratulations, Karla,” said Daemon Sadi with deceptive softness, his eyes gleaming with humour. “You’re a father now.”


End file.
